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Landlady, without.

July! go bring the kettle and stand?
Why don't you notice what I command?—
Still trifling with that fellow, alone!—
Has any one seen the Knight, Sir John?—
I wish the coxcomb may not be lost!
Of such another we'd ne'er again boast;
So just a judge, so batter'd a beau,
With so little substance, and much show.


July, without.

Poor Just-ass! O, he'll be gone to rest,
So 'bout him you need not be distrest.
In some nook he'll be taking repose,
To relieve from the weight of his nose;
It, and his head, on some place to lay;
Sure, plaguily, 'tis oft' in his way.[1]

Sir John.

Zounds! I'll be take myself to this Care;
They'll not search for me in such a place

l (He steals into, and seats himself, with elegant anguishing dignity, in the press under the stair.)

If July comes past, to her alone,
To her I'll try to make myself known:
May-hap even from such a snug recess
My suit may meet with greater success—
Suppose now, till my sweet creature come,
So's not to be heard, a tune I hum;
But lest too much I stretch my shrill throat,
I believe, though, I'd much better not,

  1. See a Lady's character of her lover, &c. in Doctor Pennecuik's Poems.